Excessica Anthology BOX SET Winter (16 page)

Elisabeth moved faster, sliding up and down his hard cock, leaning
further forward and allowing him to take her nipples in his mouth. He pulled at
them gently with his teeth, one then the other, sucking hard.

“Oh Jacob…” she cried as she hit her peak, her body clenching around
his shaft in ripples of ecstasy.

He thrust into her harder and faster, feeling himself fast
approaching his own end. The pleasure building until, with a gasp, Jacob burst
into her, releasing all his pent up passion in endless waves. Spent, he rolled
onto his side, taking her with him. Elisabeth pulled the blankets up and they fell
asleep, still locked together, his wilted cock buried inside her.

Dawn light broke through the drapes, a pale yellow glow. There was a
light coating of ice on the glass and the fireplace was cold, the embers long
since burnt out. Jacob stirred sleepily, aware he needed to leave and return to
his regiment soon. He just wished he could stay; he did not want to leave
Elisabeth again. The unbearable thought that he might never see her again lay
heavy on his aching heart.

A shout from outside made him jump; adrenaline coursed through his
veins. The dogs leapt up and began to growl ominously, their hackles rising.
Quickly, Jacob slid out of bed and pulled his britches and shirt on, then his
boots. More voices could now be heard outside and his blood ran cold.

God help him, he must have been seen by someone. His foolishness had
put them all in danger and he cursed himself for his weakness. All he could do
was escape as quickly as possible before the house was searched. If the
soldiers found nothing, they would, God willing, leave Elisabeth and John in
peace.

She awoke with a startled cry and he ran to her. “Soldiers are here,
I must go before they search the house. Quickly, get dressed—they will be
banging on the door any second. I will go through the old passageway from the
cellar and with a bit of luck, they won’t see me.”

He could feel her fear but he had no time to reassure her. Kissing
her quickly, he grabbed his coat and ran through the bedroom door and down the
stairs. Heavy thudding emanated from the main door and he heard Old John
cursing as he shuffled down the hall.

The cellar door was stiff and he made sure it was wedged shut behind
him when he closed it. The sound of the men’s voices faded as he followed the
narrow tunnel away from the house and to the outlying buildings. He exited the
outer door carefully, after listening to make sure there was no sound from the
other side.

The area was clear and he decided to make a run for it; all he had
to do was cross the wide-open yard and he would be out of sight in the woods.
He thought he had made it until there came a harsh cry and the crack of a
musket. Down he fell, into the crisp frosty grass, sweet agony blasting through
his body. He was vaguely aware of dogs barking and a woman screaming, and on
some level he knew it was Elisabeth. The white-hot pain faded away and his body
felt suddenly cold, so cold, the chill creeping through his veins like ice.

“Jacob! Don’t leave me,” Elisabeth’s tears rained down on him and
she collapsed to the ground beside him, stricken with grief.

“I will always be with you,” he tried to say, but he wasn’t sure if
she heard him or not. Everything faded to white and the last thing he heard was
Elisabeth crying,

“I love you, you can’t leave me…”

* *
* *

Olivia sat in the College library late one evening, studying her
books and making notes for the next essay she had to complete. The cavernous
room was virtually empty; the only sounds the light footsteps of the ancient
librarian replacing dusty tomes on high shelves.

Her notes were spread out before her, page upon page of tightly
written words. The essay needed to be handed in to her tutor by the end of the
week and then she was free to leave for the Christmas break. She had already
bought her train ticket and was looking forward to seeing her family again. She
still had a few presents to buy, but she would hopefully be able to do some
shopping over the next couple of days—if she ever finished the bloody
essay. Sighing in consternation, she forced herself to concentrate on the words
before her.

* *
* *

Malachi sat nearby, watching the shadows play across her porcelain
face. Her dark hair had been pulled back in a knot behind her head, but a few
rebellious tendrils had escaped and were curling in ringlets round her
shoulder. He could hear her jumbled thoughts as she tapped the pencil lightly
on the worn wooden study table, her face screwed up in concentration.

A strange feeling of affection and desire gripped Malachi as he
watched her working. He longed to be able to talk to her and touch her. He
could see the purity in her untarnished soul and his memories mingled with the
sight of the flesh and blood woman before him. He was falling in love with her
all over again and it troubled him. He wasn’t allowed to have emotions like
love; it simply wasn’t done. He was meant to observe, but not interfere, with
the lives of mortals, unless it was specifically requested. What he was doing
was strictly forbidden and if he were found out, he would be severely
reprimanded.

It was almost as if fate had brought them back together again. At
least that was what it felt like to Malachi, but he did not really understand
why. He watched as Olivia sat, patiently writing her notes, until eventually
she glanced at her watch and realised that it was late. The library would be
closing shortly.

Olivia hurriedly gathered her stuff together and shoved it in her
bag. She wrapped her scarf around her neck in defence against the cold and
slowly made her way outside and into the crisp night air. It was icy and several
times she nearly slipped on the pavement. Eventually she reached the junction
of Hampton Road and paused briefly to check if the road was clear. It was, so
she stepped off the pavement and began to cross the wide expanse of tarmac,
obviously lost in thought.

She never heard the car coming; it all happened so fast. The car was
speeding and although the driver slammed on his brakes when he saw the girl
crossing the road, he skidded on black ice. He careened out of control over the
slippery road and headed straight for Olivia.

Malachi saw all this happen as if in slow motion. Without
considering his actions or the possible implications, he moved with
preternatural speed and snatched Olivia out of the path of the skidding car.

Olivia was vaguely aware of the sound of skidding tyres and the soft
impact of a body thudding against her. Then… nothing; the world went dark.

Malachi lay her down gently on the road and stood back up. The
streetlights flickered out for a moment, plunging the street into darkness and
a sudden bitter wind swept across, swirling a few stray leaves in its midst.
Time stood still.

Footsteps echoed in the unnatural silence and a figure emerged from
the gloom. A tall figure in a Police Officer’s uniform reached Malachi and
stared at him for a long moment before speaking.

“You shouldn’t have interfered; there will be consequences now.” The
man’s black eyes gleamed with a cold fire and he frowned in irritation.

“She wasn’t meant to die yet,” Malachi retorted defiantly knowing
full well that Death wouldn’t be here for any other reason.

Death sighed heavily before glancing over to the car, crumpled
against a wall nearby. The driver lay slumped in his seat, his face buried in
the steering wheel at an unnatural angle.

“Somebody else will have to take her place then.” He turned on his
heel and strolled towards the damaged vehicle, his shoes tip-tapping ominously
in the frigid silence.

In a heartbeat he was gone. Olivia stirred. The lights flickered
back on and the strange stillness dissipated. She opened her eyes and looked
straight at Malachi, her confusion apparent.

“Who are you?” she asked blearily. “I keep seeing you in my dreams
and sometimes I think I see you in the day. Are you real?”

Malachi didn’t answer, but he leant down and kissed her gently.
“I’ll be back, I promise.” Already he could hear the voices calling him and he
stiffened as he felt the celestial pull.

Olivia heard his words and shivered as the memories reverberated
inside her. She had heard those words before but she didn’t understand how. The
man gazed deeply into her eyes and she saw the love in his face.

There came a blinding light and suddenly, he was gone. And Olivia’s
world went dark once again.

* *
* *

A week later, Christmas was over and Olivia was back in the library doing
some research for yet another paper. The accident was still fresh in her mind
but she had suffered no lasting ill effects other than a continuing propensity
for strange dreams about the mysterious dark haired man. She thought about him
now as she doodled on her pad. He had simply vanished that night and nobody
else had seen him apart from her. She wondered if she had imagined him; or
maybe he was her guardian angel, sent to protect her.

Footsteps alerted her to another’s approach and she glanced up curiously.
The lights flickered off and on. A frisson of excitement swept through her
veins like a jolt of electricity.

Malachi strode purposefully across the scarred wooden floor, his
dark hair curling over the collar of his jacket. He looked intently at Olivia,
watching her reaction. His gaze was locked on her beautiful eyes, searching for
signs of recognition.

She gasped out loud; it was the man who had haunted her dreams and
the one she had seen the night of the accident. “Who are you?” she whispered
again.

“My name is Malachi,” he said simply. “It means Angel, but I’m
mortal now.” He reached out to touch her cheek, his fingers stroking the soft
milky skin lightly. Her lips parted expectantly, her breathing quickened.
Although she could not know him, she felt, somehow, that she always had. He was
a stranger…yet familiar to her. Her head buzzed with confusion and her notes
slid off the study table and onto the floor un-noticed.

“I don’t understand,” she stated, watching him with great confusion.

“No, I don’t suppose you do. I’m not sure I fully understand either,
but here I am and here you are.” He took her hand and held it tightly, staring
into her soul.

Malachi had given up a lot to be with her again. Meddling in fate
and thwarting Death had caused him to be punished, and the punishment was being
cast back down to earth as a mortal again. The only saving grace to this
terrible punishment was that his memories were intact; he knew where to find
Olivia.

Sometimes lovers are meant to be together across time and space, so
who was he to argue? All he knew was that he and Olivia had continued to find
each other through many lifetimes and when he had stumbled across her once
again, he needed to be with her, consequences be damned.

The fickle hand of fate might have another say in their future, but
he had to take that chance. There was no way on this earth or any other he was
about to leave his love again.

“You are mine and we are meant to be together.” Malachi said simply.

Olivia listened to her heart and she knew he was right; the rest
could take care of itself. Outside the tall library windows, snow began to fall
in tiny perfect flakes. Soon the world was a magical winter wonderland once
more. The two lovers embraced, oblivious to everything but each other.

About Rachelle
Le Monnier

Rachelle
Le-Monnier spent her formative years devouring a varied diet of romance and
horror novels, whilst dreaming of true love ever after. Then she grew up and
realized the happy endings were strictly fictional and hunky heroes were sadly
lacking in her corner of the world. Not one to be daunted by cruel twists of
fate and disastrous dates a plenty, she writes her own happy endings these days
– in between juggling kids, work, fitness training and keeping her
psychotic cat happy. When she isn’t running herself ragged, Rachelle enjoys
foreign language films, dark chocolate and arguing with her teenage daughter.
You can reach her at
www.rachellemonnier.com

GRIDLOCKED

By Saskia Walker

“The snow is
getting heavier.” I nodded toward the window of the cramped London pasta
restaurant, trying to draw Nigel’s attention to the scene outside. What had
started as a sudden and rather pretty snowfall was now a full-on blizzard. The
gaudy Christmas lights in the London street were growing less visible by the
moment. Instead, the falling snow glowed strangely with occasional flecks of
color, making the experience seem even more surreal than it already was.
Inside, we were surrounded by cheerful diners and warm Mediterranean décor.
Outside, shoppers and commuters were hastening through the driving snow on the
pavements, and the traffic was crawling.

“Have another
drink, Laura,” Nigel responded, sloshing wine into the glasses from the large
terracotta jug he had ordered to accompany our pasta. “It’s warm and dry in
here, let’s chill.” He smiled. He had an attractive mouth, wide and sensuous.
His eyes were hooded and thoughtful, and there was humor there. What was I
doing here with him, I wondered, and sipped my wine.

Nigel seemed
pleased about the snow. It was as if he’d planned this so we’d be stuck with
him, after hours. I shook the notion off. That couldn’t be the case. It was a
coincidence. Still, I couldn’t help wondering. Suave, handsome and self-assured,
I guessed he was almost twenty years older than me, far older than any man I’d
ever been out with, but then again—I was twenty, and he was my University
Professor.

I glanced across
at Jo.

She saw me look,
but didn’t acknowledge my comment about the snow. Flexing back in her chair,
she stretched. Apparently she was content to let the situation evolve.

I looked at the
window again, wondering if I should have gone home with the other students.
Nigel was our eighteenth-century culture professor, and a couple of days ago
he’d suggested a gallery visit for the end of term. It was freezing cold, and
the snow had already been forecast when we caught the train for London, but the
excursion went ahead. After he’d ushered us around the National Gallery delivering
a well-practiced commentary on the collection, we convened outside while the
last of the daylight disappeared and the snow started to fall.

He sought Jo and
I out from the other students and suggested we go for a meal in order to sit
out the rush hour before catching a train. His treat, he added. It was pretty
obvious he only meant the two of us. The other students huddled in their coats,
some of the girls staring ruefully when they saw who was singled out. Quite a
few of them had a crush on Nigel. He was an attractive man, a powerful man.

I was enjoying
his attention, for sure. Mostly I went along with him because he’d asked Jo. It
was her he was interested in. It was her we were both interested in.

While the three
of us continued our conversation about why viewing paintings in the flesh was
so much better than seeing them illustrated in a textbook, I watched Jo. Right
through my first year of university I’d admired her. She was on the same course
as me but she was a couple of years older than the rest of us and had a flat in
town. I only got to see her at lecture times, and for excursions like this one.
Her lean looks first attracted me, and then my desire for her deepened. She was
so confident compared to me. Her short cherry-dyed hair and elfin features
haunted my memory constantly. She always wore combat pants or black jeans slung
low on her hips, jeans that made me want to run my hand inside to cup her
pussy. I tortured myself with it at night, alone in my bed, thrumming my sticky
clit while I imagined being in bed with her. I’d push two fingers inside myself
and imagine I was doing that very thing to her, bringing myself to climax while
I pictured it. Afterwards, I’d wonder why I couldn’t crush on someone who was
more attainable.

Being with her
today was the most time I had spent around her, and it was good, damn good. We
were side by side in the booth, facing Nigel, and I could feel the warmth of
her thigh alongside mine. The wine made me more mellow than I might otherwise
have been, and my gaze slid over to her whenever I had the opportunity to take
a sidelong glance.

Jo picked up her
wineglass nonchalantly and sipped from it. Nigel was also admiring her as she
did that. I couldn’t blame him for that now, could I? He watched her swallow
the wine, and then downed his own glass in one mouthful. He tried
unsuccessfully to signal the busy waitress for a refill, before carrying the
terracotta jug to the bar himself.

I grabbed the
opportunity. “What is Nigel up to? He seems intent on keeping us here.”

Jo shrugged
lightly, but there was mischievous smile hovering around her mouth. “It’s
fascinating, isn’t it?”

“He’s not
supposed to, you know... fraternize with the students, is he?”

“Fraternize,”
she repeated with a soft chuckle. “That’s a quaint way of putting it.” She
arched her delicately-shaped eyebrows, letting me know that she had similar
suspicions.

“I can tell he
wants you,” I said. “But what I don’t understand is why he brought me along.”

“My guess is
that he wants both of us.” She was so calm, so contained, and so damn sultry.

Was the
attraction between them mutual? My emotions tangled, and between my thighs I
grew hot and damp. “Both of us, really? That hadn’t even occurred to me.”

I had assumed
he’d brought me along just to take the bad look off it in front of the other
students. I glanced nervously at where he was at the bar, chatting animatedly
with the waiter who was filling the jug from a wine tap.

“We could have
some fun with him,” Jo suggested, and winked. That wink made me squeeze my thighs
together. She was so sexy, and I wanted her so badly.

“What do you
mean?” I asked, trying really hard to concentrate on the words coming out of
her mouth and not how much I wanted to kiss her.

“Well,” she said
quietly under her breath, keeping Nigel in her sights as she spoke, “let’s see
what happens. The trains are going to be crazy for the next few hours, why not
stay warm and have some fun.”

“I guess we
could.” Her mischievous mood was infectious. I practically sizzled with
anticipation.

“I heard a rumor
that his wife left him last year.” Her attention was still on him, and there
was a caring aura about her that struck me anew. She was such a multifaceted
person, and that was part of what drew me to her. “Maybe his ego was damaged,
and he would like some company.”

“I hadn’t
thought of it that way, but I guess it makes sense.”

“We could play
into it.” She locked eyes with me. “Do you trust me to look after you, if we
do?”

Something
shifted inside me. She was asking me a serious question, but there was more to
it. “I trust you.”
I want you.

“Good.”
She leaned over to me and kissed the very corner of my mouth. Startled, I
almost melted into the seat when her lips brushed against mine. I couldn’t help
staring at her as she sank back against the booth seat.

Niger was on his
way over. Had he seen her kiss me? When he came back, it looked as if he had.
He was eyeing us both with even more interest. I picked up my fork and dish
leftover pasta on my plate to try to look as nonchalant as possible, my heart racing
because she had touched me that way, and he’d seen. A whole year it was that
I'd been longing to touch this woman, and now it had happened. I realized Nigel
had inadvertently done me a favor, because whatever it was about the setup it
had enabled that kiss. And Jo wanted to have fun. She’d also promised to look
after me. The anticipation I felt built by the moment.

“It looks as if
we’re gridlocked,” Nigel said as he sat down, nodding back at the bar. “The
barman has the radio on. All the streets in this area of the city are at a
standstill. The combination of Christmas shoppers, end of term and the weather
means everyone wants to rush to get out of the city.” He sat back and smiled.
“But, I guess there are worse places to be in a blizzard. We have good food,
good wine.” He tipped his glass in our direction. “And good company. There are
plenty of hotels nearby, if we get really stuck.”

There it was.
He'd just thrown that out there.

“Good point,” Jo
responded.

Nigel smiled
that sensuous smile of his.

All thoughts of
catching a train vanished from my mind. It wasn’t the wine that did that, it
was because Jo rested her hand over my thigh and squeezed. It felt as if we
were communicating secretly about the situation. I noticed that she was
observing Nigel and how much he drank. The way they were sitting, opposite each
other, each twisting their wine glass while watching the other, made me think
of poker players. Is that what they were? Was this a gamble, a bluff?

“Yes, I could
get us a hotel room,” he continued. “The tubes and the trains are going to be
packed for hours now. There are bound to be delays. We could decamp for a while
and then catch the last train home." When we didn’t immediately balk at
the suggestion, our professor smiled. "I know of a decent place not far
from here.”

“How kind of
you,” Jo said. “I think we could go for that, what do you think, Laura?”

Pulse racing, I
nodded. I was her eager sidekick now, and this was an exciting mystery ride.

“Of course,” she
added, “if the three of us are going to bunk up together, we would have to
establish some ground rules.” She punctuated the statement with a sexy smile,
cupping her wineglass between both hands and sipping from it. The
self-confidence that I had always admired in her was so sure, so solid. And by
the looks of it, it was tied in with her sexuality. By the moment she seemed to
grow in stature. The pair of us were hanging on her every word. The power
balance had shifted. Nigel, our professor, was no longer the one in charge
here.

Nigel nodded,
leaning forward in his seat, the sense of intimacy between us growing. “Fair
enough. Go on…”

“I call the
shots, all of them. I say what you can and can’t do, and what you have to do.”
She said it easily, but the statement was loaded.

My breath was trapped
in my throat. Jo held his gaze, showing him she was more than up for the task
of being in charge. Oh boy, was that ever hot. What would it be like—I
wondered, as I had so many times before—being her lover?

Nigel’s eyes
flickered and narrowed as he considered her. After a moment he lifted his hands
from the table in a sign of surrender. “You got it. In fact, I’m even more
interested now.”

Game on.

 Oxygen flooded
back into my lungs, making me dizzy.

“It’ll be a
first for me,” Nigel added. “I’m not used to a woman…calling the shots, as you
put it.”

“There has to be
a first time for everything,” Jo responded, once again squeezing my thigh with
her hand. Then she pushed her glass away and reached for her coat.

Neither of us
needed more encouragement to follow her lead.

Outside, the
cold air shocked me and I pulled my collar up around my ears and buttoned my
coat, blinking snowflakes away from my eyes. People pushed past each other on
the crowded pavements and the slush was horribly cold and uncomfortable
underfoot, from where the streets had been gritted.
I didn’t like winter,
never had.
Nigel gestured up the street and we followed. Doubt edged
into my mind and then Joe linked my arm with hers, squeezing me tightly against
her as we walked, and suddenly I didn’t hate winter anymore. In fact I loved
winter. Winter had made Jo link arms with me. I didn’t care about the pushy
commuters and the fact that my toes were fast turning to blocks of ice. Up
ahead, Nigel was turning a corner and waited for us to catch up. Snowflakes
dusted his hair and eyebrows.

“Here we are.” He
gestured at a plate glass door, a swish entrance flanked by pillars. The hotel
was called Charlington House, and a uniformed doorman stood at the doorway
rubbing his hands together to keep warm. Inside, marble steps led up to the
reception area. I glanced up and noticed that the hotel was large, extending
over several of the shops beneath, and it was far from being a dive.

“Ready?” he
asked.

“Uhu,” Jo said,
“lead the way.”

“Don’t worry,”
she whispered to me, while he checked us in, “he’s the one of the reputation to
lose, not us.”

That hadn't even
occurred to me. I hoped some of her worldliness would rub off on me, because
right now I was getting nervous. I wanted to do this. I just wasn’t sure how to
conduct myself.

When Nigel
rejoined us he nodded over at the elevators. As we walked he held the card key
in one hand, tapping it with the fingers of the other. In the elevator the
atmosphere between the three of us grew tense and I felt awkward again, like I
was the one who was gridlocked—unable to move, unsure of my way through
the situation. Jo was standing two feet away from me, and when I looked her way
for reassurance she made eye contact. She reached over and trailed her fingers
down my arm from shoulder to elbow.

“How did you
know,” she said, breaking the silence, her gaze shifting to Nigel as she spoke.
“How did you know about me and Laura?”

Astonished, my
attention darted from one to the other of them. What was she saying? It was
almost as if she wanted to shock him. She had certainly shocked me. What on
earth would he say?

 “I could tell,”
he responded quietly. I wondered if she was goading him and he was
uncomfortable with that. But then his eyes glinted, as if he was savoring a
memory. “In lectures, last year, Laura always sat in the row behind you, three
seats along, where she could look at you. Now she sits closer.”

Fuck.
I
wanted the floor to open up and swallow me.

Had I been that
obvious? Was my crush on Jo known to all and sundry? Worse still, it hit me
that she’d also known all along. Embarrassment swamped me. . One thing was for
sure, if she’d been bluffing and she hadn’t already known I wanted her, she
surely did now, after Nigel’s comment. Heat burned my face. I could hardly bring
myself to look at her again, but when I did I found her as before, her posture
self-assured, her attention on Nigel.